


Carry On (New and Improved)

by just_an_angsty_writer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x19, 15x20, Angst, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, M/M, Saileen - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, Supernatural Finale Fix-It, also thanks for the emotional trauma, at least it's not homophobic, basically me throwing everything i want in here, carry on, destiel is canon and i will die on this hill, i WILL be talking to my therapist about you, i don't know how to tag, inherit the earth, please i just want cas alive, so thanks supernatural for helping me make my word count, this might be bad but it's not as bad as the finale, we ARE clowns, wrote this in like three days in a betrayed frenzy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:29:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_an_angsty_writer/pseuds/just_an_angsty_writer
Summary: This is the first and only fanfiction I am ever going to write, probably, so thanks Supernatural for making me so horrified and unhappy that I'm forced to write a terrible fanfic because I know whatever I write won't be worse than that mess of a finale.After Cas gets taken by the Empty, 15x19 and 15x20 simply don't happen, okay? This is my fun, self-indulgent version of what actually does happen. Featured: Characters that died and I miss, Dean actually caring about Cas, Sam and Eileen being cute, Michael telling off his dad, and everything else I felt like throwing in here.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Castiel, Sam/Eileen
Comments: 14
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> just so yall know I haven't edited this at all. I typed it out with tear-stained, madness fueled fingers and I pressed submit. typos are Supernatural's fault and not mine. enjoy :)

Dean's phone is buzzing next to him. Logically, he knows he should pick up. He knows that it's Sam, he knows that Chuck has just done something terrible and he needs to help, he needs to fix it, but he can't pick up. _You changed me, Dean._

Dean puts his head in his hands, his fingers digging into his hair. He can't think, he can't focus. He can't even _comprehend_ what Cas just told him. Or that he's gone. He stifles a sob. No. _No!_ He's not thinking about that. He's not thinking about any of it. _Why does this sound like a goodbye?_

He's going to go find Sam, he's going to go find his brother and together they're going to go kill God. Then they're going to bring Cas back. They're going to do whatever it takes, but they're going to bring him back. If they have to kill the damn Empty as well, they will. _Because it is._

Dean's phone stops ringing. The silence is deafening. He's all alone. A ragged sound bursts from his throat, some sort of desperate cry, and he can't stop it in time. No one's here to here it, but that's just as bad. Because _no one's here._ They're all gone. First it was the people from Apocalypse world, then it was Eileen, and now... now it's Cas. _I love you._

He can't take the silence anymore. He stumbles to his feet, fumbling for the call button on his phone. Sam picks up on the first ring. "Dean?"

"Hey, Sammy," says Dean. His voice only trembles a little, not enough to notice over the phone. "I'll be right there."

"Dean--" starts Sam. Dean hangs up. He can't talk to him yet. Not _really_ talk to him, because Sam is going to ask if they beat Death and then he's going to ask where Cas is and Dean can't-- he can't answer that. He needs the car ride; he needs a couple of hours to... to lock it away. A couple hours to shove it deep inside of him and throw away the key. 

\- 

Sam and Jack wander the streets. The kid is silent, unusually so. Sam's worried for him. He's worried for all of them, really, but Jack seems like he has something on his mind, something other than the fact that God just snapped everyone out of existence. Everyone but them. And Dean's fine too--or he's at least alive. Sam doesn't know what's going on with him, but he feels ill at the thought of it.

Sam reaches inside a car and turns off the engine. There's a booster seat in the back with a pacifier resting on it. Sam swallows and turns away. _We're going to get them back,_ he reminds himself. He tries to ignore the little voice inside his head asking, "how?"

Jack is staring at a plant in the window of a shop, brow furrowed. Sam starts to walk over to him, but the kid turns around and heads his way as soon as he hears him coming. Sam eyes the plant. "He isn't... he isn't killing the plants, too, is he?" he asks, frowning at the wilted leaves and droopy flowers.

Jack looks at the ground. "No. It's just that one."

Sam watches him. Jack is a terrible liar. "Jack, if you know something I don't, you need to tell me," he says softly, trying very hard to sound calm. He's not anywhere near calm, but he can't take it out on the kid.

"I..." Jack hesitates. "Look." He walks over to a flowerbed, Sam following apprehensively. Jack holds out his hand, passing it over of the plants, and the flowers shrivel and die immediately. "It started happening earlier today. It's gotten stronger, though."

Sam is dumbstruck. Jack should have lost all his power when he blew up in the Empty, and anyway, this is far from what he used to do. No glowing gold, no angelic magic, just... death. He tries not to wonder what would happen if Jack tried that on him.

There's a smooth rumbling sound, and both men look up to see the Impala turning around the corner. It's moving at a leisurely pace, though, like Dean is just driving to another hunt, something casual. Not the end of the world. Again.

Dean gets out of the car, slamming the door. There's a bloody hand-print on his shoulder, and Sam has a brief flash of panic before he realizes Dean is unarmed. The panic returns. Whose hand-print is that, then?

"So God got everyone, then, huh?" Dean says, taking in the empty street. His eyes look red. He looks like he's been crying, maybe. "Should've guessed. The road was covered in stopped cars."

"Yeah," says Sam. He pauses. "Where's Cas?"

Dean looks away. "Cas is... Cas is gone." The words sound hollow, like he's said them a hundred times in the car to try and prepare himself for this. Cas is... Sam stares at him, horrified. Cas can't be dead. It's Cas. He's always there. They can't have lost him, not Cas as well.

"How?" he asks, hating himself for it. "Was it Death?"

Dean's expression contorts in pain for the briefest of seconds, before he covers it up with a mask of indifference, just like always. "No. It... he made a deal with the Empty, a while ago. His life for Jack's soul. And the Empty came to collect." A pause. "It got Billie as well."

Sam turns to Jack in alarm. "You _let_ him make that deal?"

Jack stares back, pain filling his eyes. The poor kid is every bit as devastated as them. "I didn't... I didn't realize. I couldn't stop him."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter now," says Dean curtly. Sam knows what he's doing. Trying to internalize it. He doesn't think it's going to work this time. "Cas is dead and we need to find Chuck and end him. Then we're gonna bring him back."

"Dean--" starts Sam. 

Dean whirls on him. "What, Sam? Every minute we waste here is time that could be spend locating Chuck. Or a way to stop him."

"You can't just pretend that you're fine," Sam snaps. "I know what Cas meant to you."

That hits Dean like a hammer. He staggers backward, his expression turning stony. Sam frowns. He wasn't expecting that reaction. Did... did something happen? No. Why would it? Not if Cas... not if Cas was about to... to die immediately after. "You don't know anything," Dean says sharply.

"He was my friend too," Sam says. "And I'm not saying we leave him in the Empty either, I'm saying that we can't hunt Chuck while you're acting like this. You're going to get killed."

"Well, then I'm taking Chuck down with me," Dean replies. "Kid, are you coming?"

Jack looks at him, then at Sam. "I don't understand."

"What don't you understand?" asks Dean with exaggerated patience. "Your grandpa? You know, the Big Bad? He wants us dead. So we're going to go kill him, and then we're going to get our friends back. Capiche?"

He frowns. "No, I don't capiche. Why would the Empty come for Cas? Why then?"

"Because he summoned it," says Dean, jaw clenched. "To kill Billie."

"But," says Jack. "Cas said the only way it would come for him would be if he was--"

Dean strides forward, interrupting Jack's sentence. Sam frowns. What was the kid going to say? Something isn't adding up. Dean must be hiding something. Sam could guess what it is, of course, but he always figured both of them were too repressed to acknowledge that. "All that matters is that he's dead, okay? He's dead. He sacrificed himself to save me, and--" He cuts off, swallowing hard. "We're going to get him-- we're going to get them all back." 

"And if we don't?" Sam asks, unable to help himself. "What if we kill Chuck and it doesn't bring them back?"

"We'll _find_ a way," growls Dean. "If I have to march down to the Empty myself, we'll find a way."

"You're not being rational," says Sam.

"I'm not being _rational_?" Dean asks, voice rising. "You expect me to be rational. Now."

"We have to be clearheaded about this, Dean."

"Clearheaded?" he echoes. "Everyone in the entire world is _dead_ , Sam! They're all gone! I can't be clearheaded!"

"You think I don't know that?" Sam demands. "We lost everyone! I lost Eileen!"

"I lost Cas!" Dean shouts. Both brothers fall silent as the full impact of what he just said sinks in. Dean turns away, rubbing his eyes viciously. "I'm going to go find Chuck whether you're coming with me or not."

"I--" starts Sam. He's distracted as Jack flinches and turns around, some leftover sense alerting him to someone else's presence. 

"Looking for me?" asks Chuck, standing across the street, hands clasped in front of him. His suit is white and pristine. He looks the very picture of grace, an angel clad in light, but even the friendly smile on his face is laced with menace.

Dean starts toward him, hand already on his gun. "Chuck, you son of a--"

Sam grabs his arm to stop him, but Dean shakes him off with a murderous look and aims his gun toward Chuck. What he thinks that will accomplish is unclear, but he fires it regardless, the bullets shattering the silence and embedding themselves in Chuck's chest. 

Chuck frowns and looks down, as if only mildly annoyed, and with a casual flick of his hand sends Dean flying backward, slamming into the Impala and crashing to the ground. "Oh, come now," says Chuck, still smiling. He nods to Jack. "Hi, grandson."

Jack takes a step back, eyes slightly wide. Without his powers, Chuck could do anything he wanted to him. "I'm not your grandson," he says, voice steady.

Chuck laughs. "You don't get to choose your family, kid. You should've learned that."

"I thought it was you who wrote that family doesn't end with blood," Sam snaps. Dean groans and staggers to his feet, bracing himself against his car. 

"Oh, sure, I wrote that," says Chuck, waving a hand flippantly. "But I never really meant it, ya know? It was always about you two. Sam and Dean. Bobby... Eileen... even Cas. They were all just... extras. Dispensable." 

Dean snarls. "They're not _dispensable_ ," he says with effort. "And you're going to bring them back."

Chuck shakes his head, tsking under his breath. "Oh, Dean. I can't bring your angel back. Not from where he is now. Sorry. You're just going to have to live with never saying it back." 

Dean's face goes pale. Sam finally understands, at the most horrible moment. Oh. _Oh._ They finally figured it out, but too late. "You son of a bitch," Dean says again.

"Fun fact!" says Chuck. "I'm actually not a son of anything. There was nothing before me."

"You're wrong," says Jack suddenly. "The Empty. It's always been here."

"Yeah, well, the Empty's having a bit of trouble at the moment," snaps Chuck. "Every since you kindly went and woke everyone up. Thanks for that, by the way. You're really messing up my plot."

"Your plot?" asks Sam. "You still think this is going to end the way you want it to?"

He laughs. "Oh, yeah, I do. Maybe not my first choice-- you know, the whole Cain and Abel thing--but it's still working out for me. You see, you three are going to live out your days here. All alone on this empty planet, without your loved ones. Just you. And you're going to die, unhappy and without accomplishing anything you want."

"We're going to beat you," says Dean, desperation tinging his voice. 

"No," says God. He smiles. "You're not."

And then he's gone, leaving what's left of Team Free Will just as alone as he said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the last. Angsty times, Dean missing Cas and being a jerk about it, Sam not putting up with his bullshit, Crowley(!!), basically good stuff!! I promise the God-killing stuff will come eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome BACK. i am slowly losing my grip on both canon and reality. :) enjoy

They drive home in silence, Dean's hands tense around the wheel and his eyes locked on the road. Sam keeps glancing at him. He doesn't look back, because right now focusing on driving is the only thing keeping him from breaking down and screaming.

"God's book," says Sam, finally breaking the quiet. "It'll tell us how he's supposed to die."

"Sure, if we could read it," replies Dean. "Which we can't."

"Death is dead, Dean," says Sam. "That means there has to be a new death."

Dean finally turns to look at him. "Only reapers can become Death."

"Yeah, but there are no reapers left," Sam says. "What happens then? Someone has to be Death. Otherwise... well, it wouldn't work, would it?"

"What are you saying? You think it's one of us?"

"Well, it has to be, doesn't it?" he says. "We're the only three left."

"Unless someone else is out there," Jack contributes ominously.

"Thanks for that, kid," mutters Dean. He looks back at the road in time to swerve and avoid a stopped car. Without God on their side, he's going to have to get used to actually paying attention to the road, even with their new luck. No more staring at-- He stops the thought before it can fully leave his brain. _Don't think about him,_ he reminds himself. _Don't think about how he's dead because of you. Because you couldn't save him._

"Are we going to talk about it?" asks Sam quietly.

Dean doesn't look at him. "About what."

"Dean--"

"No, Sam," Dean says bluntly. "We're not going to talk about it. No chick flick moments, remember?"

"Expressing your feelings doesn't make your life a chick flick," Sam says. "It helps."

"Oh yeah? Why don't you do it, then. Tell me. How do you feel right now, Sam? How do you feel without Eileen?" Dean knows he shouldn't bring her up. Damn it, _he knows._ He can't help it, though. If Sam's so determined to talk, then let him talk.

"I feel pretty shitty," Sam replies, curt. "And yeah, it sucks. I-- I love her, okay? And knowing she's gone hurts. But it's giving me a reason to keep going. To get her back."

"And what if we don't?" Dean asks. They pull up to the bunker, and Dean puts the car in park. "What if we can't get any of them back?"

"I get that you're upset," Sam says. His voice is stiff, and he shoves open the car door without even a glance at Dean. "And I know you're not really mad at me. But that doesn't give you an excuse to be a dick." He gets out of the car and slams the door. Jack follows him, his eyes briefly meeting Dean's in the rear-view mirror.

Dean watches them disappear into the bunker. He stares straight ahead, seeing nothing, and then closes his eyes. _Cas,_ he prays, giving in. _Cas, can you hear me?_

There's no response. He doesn't know why he thought there would be. Of course there isn't. Cas isn't just in heaven, he's not just dead, he's really gone. _I'm sorry,_ Dean thinks regardless. _Cas, I'm sorry._

He opens his eyes, gets out of the car, and goes inside. 

-

"Okay," says Sam. "Theoretically, one of us has to be Death, yeah?"

"Sure," says Dean, twisting the top off a bottle of cheap whiskey and taking a swig.

"So, try to open this." He pushes it toward Dean. "Me and Jack have already tried. It didn't work."

Dean reluctantly sits up and reaches for the book. He tugs at the cover. It doesn't move. "What the hell?" he asks. "I mean, I don't wanna be Death, but someone's gotta be, right?"

Sam frowns at it, concern evident in his face. "Right."

"Then who is it?" asks Jack. 

"I don't know," says Sam. They all stare at the book for a few seconds, until Dean's phone goes off.

"Wha--?" Dean says, fumbling to flip it over. "Who the hell--" He cuts off, staring at the name on the screen. Jack gasps. _Cas._ He snatches it up, clicks accept, and holds it to his ear, hand trembling. "Cas?" he whispers. Oh god. It has to be him, right? It has to. He doesn't want to consider anything else, not the rational side of his brain that's saying "how can it be Cas? He's in the Empty."

"Dean," comes Cas's raspy voice across speakerphone. Dean can't move. "Dean, please. I got out, but I'm injured. I need you to let me in."

Dean drops his bottle of whiskey, and it cracks open on the floor. He leaps to his feet and runs for the door. His chair topples over behind him, and he can hear Sam shout "Wait!" but he can't, not when it's Cas at the door, Cas, and he's going to run up to him and he's going to kiss him until neither of them can breathe and then he's going to tell him how's he's a goddamn dumbass and kiss him again--

Dean opens the door without hesitation, fully prepared to fling himself into the arms of his angel. 

"Hello, Squirrel," says Crowley. Dean slams the door shut, frozen. It's not Cas, he thinks, devastated. _It's not Cas._

A knock comes at the door. Dean swallows hard, blinking away tears. He opens the door again.

"Really?" says Crowley, pouting. "Slamming the door in my face is not the reunion I had in mind."

"That's what happens when you call me and--" Dean cuts off. "What the _hell,_ man?"

"Yes, yes, nice to see you too," Crowley says, brushing past Dean and into the bunker. Sam gapes when he sees him, scrambling for his blade. "Oh, Samuel. In case you've forgotten, last time we met we were on good terms, weren't we?"

"How are you back?" demands Sam. "You should be dead! We saw Lucifer--"

"I was dead. Now I'm back. Why is that a surprise to you, Moose? It happens all the time."

"Not from the Empty," Sam says. Dean looks at the ground. "How did you do it?"

Crowley sighs. "Can we at least sit down first before starting the interrogation?"

"No!" says Dean, shoving an angel blade against his throat. "Tell us how you got out. Was it Chuck?"

Crowley rolls his eyes, shaking his head and gently pushing Dean's blade away. "Obviously not. Chuck doesn't have any power over the Empty. No, when your adopted kid here--" he gestures to Jack-- "exploded in there, he woke everyone up. Messed with the Empty's boundaries a bit, too. People are slowly slipping out. I think I'm among the first."

"Wait," says Jack. "Everyone's awake? And getting out?"

"Most of them, yes," says Crowley. He glances at Dean, who's standing still, desperately trying to stop himself from hoping. "Sorry, Squirrel. Your angel wasn't in there when Jack went off. He's still sleeping."

Dean nods stiffly. He shouldn't have let himself get his hopes up. He should have known better. "Great. So all of our enemies are back? Gonna team up with God?"

"I don't think anyone's particularly friendly toward him at the moment, no," says Crowley. "But some will. We just have to hope most will be on our side."

"We?" asks Sam. 

Crowley glares at him. "I literally died for you boys. What more is it going to take for you to trust me?"

"A helluva lot," snaps Dean. "For starters, how'd you get Cas's number?"

The demon sighs again and holds up a phone that Dean vaguely recognizes as one of Cas's. "This is what happens when you give people multiple phones," he tells them, tossing it to Dean. "You shouldn't have let me in. I could've been Chuck, or Lucifer, for all you know."

"You called from Cas's phone," says Sam.

"Yeah, and you should've known better," replies Crowley. "Can't believe you boys are the ones I'm teaming up with for this."

"We didn't ask for your help." Dean curses himself internally. How could he have just opened the door like that? Even if it's just Crowley, what if it wasn't? What if it was someone else, someone evil? It would've been his fault, all because he thought it just might have been Cas.

Crowley doesn't respond, merely stepping past Dean and the others, walking down into the bunker. He looks around curiously. "Hasn't changed much, has it," he comments.

"We haven't had much time for renovations," grumbles Dean.

"Who else escaped from the Empty?" asks Sam, trailing behind Crowley like a lost dog. "And what is the Empty doing during all this? It has to be trying to stop everyone escaping, right?"

"I assume everybody. And no. Mostly, I believe, it's trying to kick everyone out. It was an unpleasant experience, to say the least."

"So there's a hole?" Jack asks. Everyone turns to him. "In the Empty. Everyone has to be getting out somehow."

"Which means we could get in," says Dean, hope flooding his whole chest. "Or we could get someone out."

Crowley laughs. "The Empty's not going to just let you waltz in, squirrel. It'll kill you on sight." Considering that the end of the conversation, he walks over to where God's book is still lying on the table, and attempts to lift the cover. Sam inhales sharply, but it remains firmly closed. The demon shrugs. "Awfully rude of it, but not surprising. Is that really your only plan?"

Sam and Dean immediately find other places to look. Jack nods stoically. "Yes."

"You're going up against God with nothing but a locked book?" says Crowley disbelievingly. "I knew you were stupid but this is a new low."

"Yeah, well, we don't have much choice, do we?" says Dean. "It's this or nothing."

"I bet the Empty spilling open wasn't Chuck's plan, though. He's probably pretty pissed that Jack threw a wrench in his plans like that," Sam says, a half-smile creeping across his face.

"Right now I'd say he's probably just happy you didn't go through with the Jack-bomb," says Crowley. "Do you idiots at least have a way to find out who Death is now?"

Sam and Dean looks at each other. "No," says Dean reluctantly. "The Empty opening screwed with our plans too."

"Great," says Crowley curtly. "So what, you're just going to wait around for an army of angels and demons to come kill you?" 

"They can't get in the bunker," says Sam with false bravado.

Crowley tilts his head irritatingly and points to the phone in Dean's pocket. "Hello, Dean," he says, voice mockingly low. "Please, let me in. I need your help."

"Shut up," says Dean. Crowley smirks. "Shut the hell up!"

"Sorry, Squirrel," says Crowley. "Poking a soft spot, am I? I wasn't sure if you'd let me in if you knew who I was."

"I thought we could trust you," says Sam, echoing his words from earlier. 

"You can," Crowley replies. "But do you? No. So, for now, I'm not taking the chance that you'll toss me to the wolves when you get an opportunity. Sorry," he adds sarcastically.

"Fine," growls Dean. He fumbles inside one of his pockets and pulls out a flask, taking a hefty drink. Sam eyes him in concern.

"Drinking on the job?" asks Crowley, never one to restrain from saying what he's thinking. "How unprofessional."

"Shut up," mutters Dean, creatively. He caps the flask and tucks it away. "Why the hell are you here, Crowley? You got anything other than snarky one liners to contribute?"

"And do you have anything other than alcoholism and repressed emotions?" retorts Crowley. Dean flinches. "Yes, actually, I do. I have a spell that can find Death, and bind their soul to another living creature."

"What does that mean?" asks Sam, baffled.

Crowley sighs. "Always so dense, Moose. It means I can basically turn one of you into Death. You know, the old switcharoo. You become Death, they die, yada yada. You get the point. It's a two part spell. First to summon, then to switch."

Dean and Sam exchange looks again. If Crowley's telling the truth... it could give them a way to open the book. A way to find how to kill Chuck. "Okay," says Dean, nodding firmly. "Do it."

-

The spell is ready. A couple of ingredients-- some bones, blood, and herbs, and boom! All it needs is a bit of Latin, which Sam reads aloud from the scrawled out instructions Crowley gives him. 

And they wait. Dean has his legs kicked up on the table, a beer in one hand. Jack is standing awkwardly next to Crowley, eyes darting toward the demon every few seconds. Nothing happens. "Huh," says Sam. "How long is it supposed to take?"

"Not this long," says Crowley, a frown crossing his face. "Odd--"

"Agh!" shouts Jack, clapping his hands over his ears and doubling over. Sam rushes to his side, helping him into a chair in concern. Dean sits up. Crowley watches the whole thing with mild interest.

"Jack?" asks Sam, voice tinged with panic. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing--I--" Jack shakes his head violently. "It's so _loud."_

"What do you mean, kid?" Dean asks. They already tried to open the book, and it didn't work. So Jack can't be Death, right? Besides, he's just a child. He wouldn't know what to do as Death. "What are you hearing?"

"I--" says Jack, wincing. "It's like when I was in the Empty, after everyone had woken up. I can hear them _all._ Whispering my name."

"Your name?" asks Sam. "Why would they be saying your name?"

"They're looking for me," he says, brow furrowed in pain and concentration. "They say... I'm supposed to fix it. Send them back."

"Send them back... to the Empty?" asks Crowley, taking a half step back. "Oh, goody."

"Jack, why do they want you?" asks Sam intently.

Jack removes his hands from his ears, eyes wide. "Because I'm Death," he says, and passes out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, i changed lucifer to crowley because i do not care about lucifer at all and i miss crowley. i don't know whether or not a human can be death but you know what this is MY fix-it fanfic and it can be whatever i want. leave me and my plot holes alone lol.   
> any suggestions for more things to happen? thanks for reading!! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is Death, a bunch of characters I miss return, and they finally fight God.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to another installment of me going crazy. hope you like it

Jack is still sleeping. Dean and Sam sit on chairs next to his bed, watching him. They have nothing else to do, not really. Crowley hovers by the door, looking on the verge of fleeing. He's been like that ever since Jack said he needs to said everyone back to the Empty.

He doesn't mean _everyone._ Just most of them, right? Their enemies. Their friends... if people are escaping from the Empty, maybe Cas still can too. Dean wishes desperately he could abandon this whole thing and charge into the Empty and rescue Cas, but he can't. He can't abandon this mission, this last hunt.

Because it _is_ his last hunt. He can feel it. Whether it ends in death or joy, either way, he doesn't want to hunt anymore. Maybe once, that would have been the way he wanted to go out, saving people, hunting things, until the very last, but not anymore. Now he just wants Cas back. He just wants his friends-- his family, damn it!-- back and he wants them happy.

"Why do you think the book wouldn't open for him?" Sam asks quietly, breaking through Dean's whirlwind of thoughts.

He shrugs. "Maybe because the kid was still transforming, or whatever? Not Death-y enough to open the book yet, I guess."

"Or maybe that's not the book," says Crowley. "Who gave it to you?"

Sam clears his throat. "I, uh, I stole it. Sort of."

"Sort of?" asks Crowley. "If you're going to steal something, at least commit to it."

"Well, the Empty found it in Death's library, and then I stole it from the Empty, and then Billie took it back, and then we stole it again. Accidentally."

"Thanks, Samantha," Crowley says flatly. "That was clear."

"The point is, we have it. And we know it's the real thing because we saw Billie reading it," Dean says. "She said it was 'interesting.'"

"'Interesting.' Really? Are you saying if I opened up a book and flipped to a random page, said 'interesting' aloud, you would automatically believe that I was genuinely reading it and not just making stuff up? How daft are you?"

"We're not... daft," says Dean, glaring at Crowley. "She's Death. Obviously she was reading it."

"Fine," grumbles Crowley. "Don't listen to me, then. That's always worked out well for you in the past, am I right, boys?"

Jack groans on the bed. Crowley is swiftly forgotten in favor of both brothers watching in apprehension as Jack sits up wearily. "Sam?" he asks, squinting at the figures in front of him. "Dean?"

"Crowley," Crowley volunteers. No one acknowledges him, and he rolls his eyes.

"So, kid," Dean begins awkwardly, then stops. "Uh. How are you feeling?"

"Better," says Jack, rubbing his head. "I feel... strange, though."

"Good strange or bad strange?" asks Sam.

Jack frowns, considering. "Neither. Just strange."

Dean laughs curtly, because he feels like he has to or he'll lose it. "I'm sure you do. You know, since you just told us you were Death and all, then immediately fainted."

Jack tilts his head. The gesture is so familiar that Dean has to look away. Why does he look just like Cas? They're barely even related. "Sorry. It was overwhelming."

"I'm sure it was," says Crowley. "Can you read the book or not?"

"Crowley!" says Sam.

Crowley shrugs. "Look, Samantha, as much as I'd love to hang around and have a cup of tea while we discuss all of our various issues, this kid here is our one chance to set everything right. Chuck'll send me back to the Empty if you can't beat him soon. Spoiler alert! I don't _want_ to go back to the Empty." He shudders.

Jack reaches out and takes the book sitting on the nightstand. He flips it open easily. Dean and Sam lean in, both holding their breath. Crowley rolls his eyes, but it's clear he's just trying to act unconcerned. "It says..." starts Jack. He frowns.

"What?" demands Dean. "What does it say?"

"It says that..." Jack squints at it. "It's fancy writing, but I think it says... old age?"

"You _think_?" asks Crowley. " _You_ _think?"_

Jack nods, more confident this time. "Yes. It says--" He cuts off. His head snaps in the general direction of the bunker's entrance. "Someone's here."

Dean leaps to his feet, pulling out his gun. He starts to head out the door, but Jack says, "Dean, wait," and he reluctantly stops.

"A gun isn't going to work against whatever's out there," adds Sam. Crowley nods.

He groans in frustration. "If it's a demon, it will. Devil's trap bullets."

"Yeah, and if it's not?" Sam crosses his arms. Dean feels a flash of anger. He wants to _kill_ something, not sit around. _You think that hate and anger, that's what drives you. It's not._

You were wrong, Cas, he thinks. It is. Because everything he's doing now, this desperate desire--this _need_ \--to find Chuck and kill him, he's not doing it for love. _Or are you?_ Dean shakes the thought off. He doesn't... he's doing this because he's _mad,_ because the Empty stole Cas away from him and he's pissed. He's going to get Cas back. Not because he loves him--he _doesn't,_ he tells himself--but because he has to. Because Cas is his... his friend.

"Then I'll figure it out," he snaps.

"You don't need to," says Jack suddenly. "I can sense him. He's not... he's not evil."

"So he's on our side?" 

"He's not... not good, either," continues Jack. "But yes. I think so."

"Great," mutters Crowley. "The kid's partially sure the person out there is only kind of evil."

"You're also partially evil," Sam points out. Crowley grumbles something under his breath, and Dean pushes past him, heading for the bunker door. He just wants this whole damn thing to be over. But God dying of old age? How is that evil possible? It's _God._ One would think he doesn't have an age limit. 

The doorbell rings. "Coming!" Dean shouts. He's well aware of how stupid this idea is, but oh well. If he lets someone in and they try to kill him? He'll take the son of a bitch down with him. If they're on his side? Awesome.

He shoves the door open and has his gun pressed to a familiar forehead immediately. He lowers it, eyes widening.

"Heyo, Dean," Gabriel says, biting into a Snickers. "Nice to seeya again."

"Is that _Gabriel?"_ says Sam, stopping at the bottom of the stairs, Jack and Crowley hovering behind.

Gabe waves cheerfully at him. "It sure is. I brought along a couple friends." 

"Friends?" Dean asks warily. Gabriel gestures behind him, and he spins around to see that the bunker is now chock full of... angels? Demons? Dean's not exactly sure. Either way, there's at least a dozen, probably more. He recognizes a few of them: Anna, Balthazar, Alfie (what was that angel's real name again? Samandriel? Dean can't remember.) He also sees Meg and Gadreel, neither of which he feels very comfortable with calling 'friends.'

"You're welcome," says Gabe, dropping his candy wrapped in Dean's hand. "Everyone here wants God gone as much as you do. So."

"So we really hope you have a plan," drawls Meg. She frowns, taking in the conspicuous lack of Cas. "Where's Clarence?"

"Cas is dead," Sam says when Dean remains silent.

Meg smirks. "So was I."

"He's dead, dead," says Dean stiffly. "And yeah, we have a plan."

"Care to elaborate?" Crowley asks, gesturing with his hand for them to continue. Everyone has fallen silent now, watching them, which is a bit of a problem considering they actually don't have a plan and their one lead is useless now that apparently the only way Chuck dies is old age.

Sam looks at Dean, waiting for him. Dean bites his lip and nods. Since when have they ever listened to what a book told them? Chuck tried to write their lives and he failed. No book is going to dictate their actions, not anymore. "We have Death on our side," he says, nodding to Jack. "We're going to reap God."

-

The plan is simple. But if it doesn't work, they're screwed. Basically, they're going to use the horde of newly resurrected angels and demons to distract Chuck, giving Jack time to get near him and reap him. 

There are several problems with this plan. One, they don't even know if Jack will be able to reap God at all. He doesn't even know how to summon his scythe. Two, they also don't know if he'll be able to be distracted at all. Maybe he's still watching them. Maybe he knows what they're planning. And three. Even if they _do_ manage all of this, even if they do kill Chuck, what are they going to do? There's no guarantee defeating him will bring everyone back. And even if it does, they'll still have all the demons who've escaped from the Empty and are wreaking havoc all over the world to deal with.

Sam tries not to think too hard about all of those problems. He focuses on what he can do now, just like he's been doing for the past few days. Ever since-- ever since Chuck killed everyone. _Not killed,_ he thinks. No, because killed is permanent. This isn't going to be permanent. They're going to get them back.

"Chuck!" Sam shouts at the sky. Dean paces up and down the stretch of beach they've settled on using. On one side, a green, dense forest extends as far as the eye can see, and on the other, a large, glimmering blue lake reflects the clear sky.

"What is it now?" asks Chuck. Both brothers spin around to face him. He looks vaguely irritated this time, which Sam decides is a win. "I thought we were done with this. Your story's over."

"Yeah," says Dean, not even bothering to glare at Chuck. He sounds tired, and a little alarm bell goes off in Sam's head. This doesn't sound like acting for their plan to work. It sounds like Dean really is... giving up. "Yeah, fine. You win. I'll kill Sam, he'll kill me. Hell, we'll kill each other! But you're going to bring him back. You're going to bring them _all_ back."

Chuck laughs, shaking his head. "Oh, no, I don't think I am. You see, boys, I'm actually quite happy with this ending. I don't _need_ you to kill each other anymore. This way works for me." He frowns suddenly, one eye flickering black for a half second. "oh. I see. You're hiding something, aren't you?"

Sam freezes. No. How did he know?

"You thought I wouldn't realize the Empty's been cut open? I'm God, Sam. I know everything."

"Not everything," Dean growls.

Chuck sighs exaggeratedly and shakes his head. "Yes, everything. Your plan's failed. Your little army isn't going to show up and face me, not when I'm expecting them. No one in their right mind would face off against God himself." He stare at Sam and Dean pointedly. 

"Yeah?" Dean asks. He draws his angel blade. "Then I guess we're just crazy."

"Dean, Dean," says Chuck. He snaps. Dean's blade goes clattering to the ground as he crumples to the ground in pain, his leg cruelly twisted at an angle no leg should ever be at. "You should know better than that.

"Chuck, you--" Sam, too, cuts off in agony as he drops to the ground, his legs giving way to blistering pain. Somewhere in his brain, a part of him is screaming at him to get up, to climb back to his feet and keep fighting. But the pain is too much, and he can't. Dean is sitting up weakly, and he meets Sam's eyes. And though it hurts like hell, they both struggle to a standing position.

"Guys, stop," says Chuck, holding out his hands. Another strike of agony stabs Sam, this time in the chest. He keeps standing, staggering backward a bit. "Stop! You've lost. It's time for you to give up."

Plan B isn't working either. Chuck is barely paying attention to them. All he has to do is snap and they're immobile. It's not going to be enough for Jack to get close to him. Regardless, both brothers refuse to give in. _If we're going out,_ thinks Sam determinedly. _We're going out swinging._ Because he doesn't want to die. Not when there's so much he still wants to do. He wants to see Eileen again. He wants to have a nice, fulfilling life with someone he really cares about. He wants to see his brother happy. But if he has to die, at the very least he's going to die on his feet.

"No," says a cold voice. "It's time for _you_ to stop."

Michael. Sam can just barely see him out of the corner of his blurry vision. Still wearing Adam as a vessel, but no longer with the sense of... _humanity_ about him. Wherever Adam is now, he's not with Michael. 

Chuck spreads his arms in a welcoming gesture, smiling fondly. "Son."

"Father," Michael returns, still staring at Chuck, eyes glowing slightly. There's a sort of madness about him. He looks... unhinged, for lack of a better word. Sam wonders what's happened to him

"What are you doing here? Come to kill the Winchesters?"

"I've come to ask you to spare them," he says. Sam starts. "What you're doing here is wrong." 

Jack appears behind Chuck, a silent figure. Still no scythe. But Chuck doesn't seem to notice him, so engrossed with Michael. He frowns. "Son, are you... are you _rebelling?"_

"You're going to bring them _back,"_ says Michael. That unhinged look is back, growing steadily stronger. "Adam. All of them."

Chuck laughs, then considers the archangel. "You... you've become attached to the human, haven't you? Struck up a friendship with your vessel? Now, that's interesting. I wouldn't have written that. No, it's so--"

Michael's eyes glow violently blue, his form giving off an unmistakable sense of power. Sam and Dean watch in silent alarm. Jack takes a few more steps toward Chuck. "Don't make me fight you, Father."

"You _are_ rebelling," says Chuck, seemingly amazed. "First Lucifer, then Castiel. Now you? My favorite son?"

"I was _never_ your favorite," snaps Michael. "I was always an afterthought. A secondary character. You were always so focused on yourself, never sparing a glance for your children."

"The Winchesters have had a bad influence on you," begins Chuck. "One snap of my fingers and you would be dead. Are you sure you want to do this?"

Michael laughs coldly. "The Winchesters... Castiel... they have taught me what you failed to. So yes." He looks at Sam, then Dean, then behind Chuck to where Jack is standing, and nods. "I'm sure."

Chuck prepares to snap, and then freezes. He turns around slowly, bringing himself face to face with Jack, who just stands there. "So this is your ploy?" he asks, chuckling. "A powerless--"

Jack reaches out and presses two fingers to Chuck's forehead, a gesture reminiscent of the way Cas used to send people to sleep. Chuck's eyes roll back in his head, a blinding white light emerging from his eyes and mouth. Sam and Dean shield their eyes.

When they open them again, Chuck is lying on the ground. His chest rises and falls gently, but he doesn't move. Jack stands there, looking down at the man curiously.

"Jack?" Sam asks cautiously. "What did you do?"

"I released the energy within him," says Jack, kneeling down to Chuck's level. "That much power shouldn't be contained within one man."

"But... you're Death," says Dean. He gestures vaguely, wincing in pain. "He's not dead."

"God is dead," Jack says, glancing up at them. "Chuck isn't."

"Great. Thanks for the clear explanation."

"Dean, I think he means Chuck is... human," says Sam quietly. Dean's eyes widen. 

Michael nods. "That's correct. Chuck's power and Amara's essence... it's where it should be. Split amongst us all. A stable balance."

"Wait," says Dean, shaking his head. "So, Amara's dead too?"

"No," says Jack. "She's fine. But the Darkness... I'm not sure. I think part of it is still in her, enough to keep her alive. But the rest... what Michael said."

"About that," Sam says. He straightens and turns to look at Michael, trying to ignore the crippling pain in his side. "Thank you. For coming to help."

Michael nods at him. Immediately the pain disappears. He hears Dean let out a sigh of relief next to him and assumes Michael did the same for him. "He needed to be taken down," he says.

"Yeah," says Dean. "I didn't think you were coming."

"I wasn't going to," says Michael. "But a world with no humans is an empty world. When God first made it... he had the right idea. He lost it somewhere along the way, but at one point he was trying to do the right thing. I... humans are flawed, yes, but they don't deserve to be destroyed like that in a fit of rage."

Jack looks up at the sky. Sam follows his gaze, watching as a swallow flies across the blue sky. A smile breaks out on his face. They did it. If there's birds again, that means... _Eileen._

Dean grins at him. "Nice job, Sammy." He smiles back, exhaling in relief. God is dead, and the birds are back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i no longer care about plot holes. how do the characters in the empty know about chuck's craziness? beats me but they do. literally cannot remember what michael thought about his dad but oh well he hates him now. this is MY story and the supernatural writers can get the hell out of my way.   
> next chapter will be all destiel, saileen, and good vibes. enjoy :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bunch of fluff, lil bit of angst, and a happy, overly cheesy ending. :)

Dean takes one look at Sam and wordlessly gets into the passenger seat of the Impala, letting Sam drive for one of the first times he can remember. And Sam drives like a maniac, gunning the gas and only barely slowing down at stop signs. _Eileen._ How is he supposed to obey traffic laws when Eileen is alive and waiting for him?

"Good god, Sammy," says Dean when Sam takes a turn too aggressively. "Don't kill us. She'll still be there if we're a couple minutes late."

"Yeah, would you drive slowly if the person you love was waiting for you?" Sam snaps, focused on the road. Dean doesn't respond, and Sam curses his words. But he can't think of a way to apologize, not when he's still not even sure if Dean knows his own feelings. So instead they drive in silence.

Sam pulls up next to Eileen's car and leaps out, eyes immediately alighting on Eileen's slight figure. She catches sight of him and smiles, the worry disappearing. "Sam!" she starts to say as he runs up to her. "What's--"

He pulls her into a deep kiss before she can even finish the statement. Eileen kisses him back easily, her hands tangling in his hair. Dean looks away. 

When they finally pulls apart, Eileen is staring at him with concern in her face. "What's going on?" she asks, also signing it. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Sam replies. He signs "sorry" and shakes his head, swallowing back tears of relief. "I just... I love you."

She smiles up at him. "I love you too," she says. "But why did you want me to come out to my car? And where is my phone?"

"Oh, uh--" Sam stumbles for the right words. Yeah, you got snapped out of existence so we went and killed God and brought you back. How is one supposed to bring that up?

The car door slams behind him, and Dean swaggers up to them, nodding at Eileen with a slight smile. He hands her her phone. "It's a long story. I'm sure Sammy would love to go inside and chat about it with you, wouldn't he?" He winks at Sam, who rolls his eyes. "I'm heading back to the bunker. Don't come home too early."

-

Sam creaks open the bunker door at a late hour. He's not really sure what time it is-- He and Eileen kind of lost track. But it's dark outside, and he creeps downstairs, trying not to wake Dean up.

His gaze is caught by a figure slumped over at a table. Dean? Why isn't he in his room? Sam walks over, frowning as he notes the various empty bottles scattered around him. Books are stacked all around him, most flung open, and one is upside down on the floor like he threw it there. "Dean?" 

Dean jerks away, slamming the book he was sleeping on closed. "Sam?" he asks blearily. "What are you doing here?"

"It's like--" Sam checks his watch. "Two a.m. Why are you doing research?"

"I didn't think you'd be home tonight," he says, adding with a smirk, "if you know what I mean."

"Unfortunately, yeah. I do. Are you _drunk?"_

"Maybe," says Dean, shoving the bottles off to the side. "A little."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam asks. "I know with Cas gone--"

"This isn't because of Cas," Dean grumbles.

Sam snatches the book he was reading, Dean making a halfhearted grab for it, and flips it open to the bookmarked page. "'Where do demons go after death?'" he reads. Dean groans and leans back. "'Not heaven, not hell. I theorize there is another--'"

"Okay!" Dean says. "I'm reading about the Empty. I can't just _leave_ him there, Sammy." He swallows thickly, and Sam can see he's struggling to hold back his emotions. He wants to tell he gets it, that he shouldn't repress everything. But he knows Dean won't listen.

"We're going to get him out," says Sam. He looks at Dean's haggard face, at the pain in his eyes. "It wasn't your fault."

Dean doesn't respond. Sam sighs and claps him on the back. "I'm going to go get some sleep. You should too."

He starts to walk off, but Dean's voice stops him. "It was." His voice is dead. He sounds broken, pained.

"What do you mean?" Sam asks, careful to keep his words free of judgement.

"Cas told me... he said that the Empty would only come for him when he was truly happy. And..." Dean cuts off. 

"And...?" Sam prods gently.

"And he told me he loved me, Sammy," Dean says, burying his head in his hands. "He said he _loved_ me."

"Oh," says Sam. Finally. 

Dean looks up, his eyes lined with tears. "Did you know?"

Sam nods. "It was pretty obvious to everyone except you two."

"I--" Dean closes his eyes, biting his lip. "I think I love him too."

"I know," says Sam, and when Dean's head jerks up to him, he shrugs awkwardly. "You were also pretty obvious."

"I-- why didn't I _tell_ him, Sammy? I should have told him. I should have--"

"Dean--" starts Sam, but he's ignored.

"It's my fault. If I had just told him, if I hadn't been such a coward, if I had--" He rubs at his eyes, unable to keep the tears from falling. "God, this is embarrassing."

"We're going to get him back, Dean," says Sam again, because he can't think of anything else. When he lost Jess... when he lost Jess, he at least had a way to avenge her. Not get her back-- no, back then he never thought that was possible-- but he knew he had to hunt down the demon. Dean... Dean can't kill the Empty. And he certainly can't kill his feelings. "It wasn't your fault, either."

Dean shakes his head. "It was. I should have stopped him--"

"Dean!" says Sam. Dean meets his eyes. "He made his choice. He _wanted_ to do that. You said he was happy." Dean tries to protest, but Sam cuts him off with a warning glare. "No. We're _going_ to get him out of there. I promise." 

He knows it's a dangerous thing to promise, but he can't care. Not when Dean needs someone stable, someone to promise him that everything is going to be alright. He doesn't want to think about the possibility that there might be no way to get Cas out, and he knows Dean doesn't either. So he doesn't bring it up. 

Dean nods. "You can go to sleep. I'll turn in in a few minutes."

Sam eyes him. "You're going to stay up, aren't you." Dean won't meet his eyes, and Sam sighs and pulls out a chair, sitting down next to him. "Hand me a book, then. We'll find a way."

-

They don't find one. Not that night, or the night after. Their days are spent hunting down demons who escaped from the Empty and making sure everything is alright with Jack. He says he wants to come home, but there are too many things he needs to reap, at least for now, and then he can come back. He also mentioned that he returned Kevin's soul to Heaven, where it belongs, and that he's been slowly sending vengeful spirits to their final destinations. He makes a better Death than the old ones ever did.

Michael (and by extension, Adam) are searching for Lucifer, along with Gabriel and a few other minor angels. Sam doesn't know how well that team-up is working, but the world hasn't ended yet so he figures everything is alright. Maybe they'll even manage to fix their family issues. He doubts it, though.

Crowley went to Hell, taking a whole host of demons loyal to him and killing the rest again. Rowena sent Sam an Amazon gift package containing a dozen witchy ingredients he's been looking for and a note that rambles about how she can't wait for Jeff Bezos to come to Hell so she can force him to make Amazon deliver there. Sam assumes that her and Crowley are finally getting along. Either that or there's all-out war down there, but as long as it's not seeping up into Earth, Sam's fine with it.

The weeks pass by in a blur. Jack comes back, looking weary. He tells them he can't find a way to get Cas out of the Empty, even with the hole in it still not closing. He says only angels and demons can go there, and he no longer has grace. Dean doesn't say anything, but Sam watches as all the hope drains from his face. 

He worries about Dean. Every week that passes, every fruitless night of research, Dean grows more bitter and more tired. Sam's not sure how long his brother can keep this sleepless routine up, and the empty alcohol bottles are starting to pile up. This ceaseless pursuit of a resurrection... it reminds Sam of how he acts every time Dean dies. Or how he used to. The unhealthy, codependent relationship that basically lead to all of their problems. 

Sam likes to think they've grown out of that. He hopes they have, at least. But Cas... Dean's relationship with Cas is obviously very different than his and Sam's. And while Sam is happy his brother's finally found someone to care about like that, he still thinks it's dangerous. Especially when it's been several months and Dean doesn't seem any better than he did when Cas first... when Cas first died.

"Stop staring at me like that," snaps Dean, glaring at Sam. Sam jolts to awareness, almost dropping the book perched in his lap. "If you're not going to research, go help Jack figure out how to work the oven. He wants to make dinner."

"I don't understand what the difference between 'bake' and 'broil' is," Jack says, frowning. "They both heat the food, right?"

"See?" says Dean, gesturing at the kid. "He may be Death and all, but he still is like, three years old. Go help him."

Sam starts to object, but Dean puts his earbuds back in and turns up the volume pointedly, hunching back over an ancient looking volume. Sam sighs. Jack watches Dean in concern. "Sam, is he okay?"

Dean clearly can't hear them through the music, so Sam rubs at his temple and shrugs wearily. "I don't know, Jack. I think he needs a win."

"We have wins, though," says Jack. "Kevin's in Heaven. Michael and Gabriel have Lucifer located and are in the process of sending him back to the Empty. I've been checking on Chuck, and he's just being a normal human. Crying all the time, drinking a lot."

Sam laughs at that. He's not wrong. "I meant he needs a win with Cas. He--"

There's a whoosh of wings behind him, and Sam turns around to see Gabriel standing there, arms folded in front of him. "Gabe?" asks Sam, frowning. "What are you doing here? What's going on with Lucifer?" Dean even takes his headphones out to hear the news.

"Lucifer can wait," Gabriel says, clearly irritated. "You three, on the other hand? You're driving me _insane._ Every time I see you, you're moping. It's getting on my nerves."

"How is this more important than Lucifer?" Dean asks, uncorking another bottle. Sam bites his tongue to prevent himself from calling him out on it.

Gabriel has no such restrictions. He snaps his fingers and the bottle in Dean's hands is replaced by a pile of what looks to be Tarot cards, which Dean drops to the floor in shock. Gabriel cocks his head, smirking at the cards on the floor. "Enough drinking," he says, waving a piece of paper in the air. "Look at this. A summoning spell. For the Empty."

"A _summoning_ spell?" asks Sam. "What good does that do us? Last time the Empty was summoned--"

"Yes, yes," Gabriel says, waving Sam off. The paper appears on the table in front of him, and Dean snatches it up, reading it desperately. "It stole your angel away from you, I know. But the Empty's can't take either of you. You're human. At most, it can steal whoever's in the room with you and retreat back."

"So what's the point of this, then?"

"The _point is,_ the Empty is wounded. Jack went off, we know this all already. You _may_ be able to sneak on in, hitch a ride with the Shadow into the Empty. It'll throw you out after a few minutes, but--"

"We wouldn't need long," says Dean, realization dawning in his face. "Just enough time to find Cas and get him out."

Gabe tosses Dean a small vial. "Steal his grace and boom! Human Cas, human Dean, angry Empty. It won't be fun, but it's the best plan you've got."

"Why didn't you give this to us earlier?" Sam asks suspiciously. Dean doesn't seem to care. He's already searching through their supplies, pulling out herbs and bones and tossing them onto the table, checking the spell every now and then. 

Gabriel sighs. "Obviously because I didn't have it, Samuel. In fact, I had to go track it down through a series of people who really aren't my biggest fans. I missed out on several excellent parties for this, I hope you know."

"Why?" asks Jack. Gabriel considers him.

"Because I'm fond of you two," he says, nodding at Sam and Dean. "Your whole free will spiel. You never did listen to me when I told you to play your roles, but you won anyway. So. I hope you can win in this too." He salutes Sam, winks, and vanishes, leaving the Winchesters staring after him.

-

It only takes a few minutes to gather up the ingredients for the spell. There's one specific type of blood they need to call Rowena for, and she sends it up immediately, along with a sharply dressed demon who looks like he would rather be anywhere but here. He drops off the blood and disappears.

"Okay," says Dean, stepping back from the bowl on the table. "You just gotta say the spell and then it'll work. Hopefully it'll be focused on you since you're the one who summoned it, and won't care about me. I'll follow it into the Empty and be back with Cas in no time."

"I still don't think you should go in there alone," says Sam doubtfully. Dean swallows a flash of anger. This is the _only_ chance they have. Why does it matter how dangerous it is? If there's even the slimmest possibility that they could get Cas back, he's more than willing to die for it. 

"Yeah, well, I am," he replies instead. Jack stands off in the corner, watching quietly. He looks hopeful too. They all do.

Dean is trying so hard, _so hard,_ not to get his hopes up. He really is. But the thought of seeing Cas again-- he can't resist running it over and over again in his head. He knows he's going to kiss him. He'll say some suave pick-up line and Cas will be smitten again, and then they'll run out of there. 

_What if Cas doesn't want him anymore?_ Dean shakes the thought off. He's not going to think about that. Cas loves him. Cas loves him.

Sam starts reading the incantation. The lights flicker madly, and Dean is reminded of another time and another summoning, in an abandoned barn painted with sigils. Hopefully this time doesn't end with him stabbing Cas in the chest. 

A black, oozing gash opens in the wall, the color so dark it simply looks like the void. Dean supposes that is is, actually, the void, so that makes sense. "Oh god," says Sam. "I feel like it's looking at me. We're sure it can't take humans?"

"Guess we're about to find out," mutters Dean, tightening the grip on the vial and his knife. Then he charges at the Empty.

-

It feels like moving through thick mud, or quicksand. The Empty doesn't want to let Dean in, but he pushes through and finally emerges into... into nothing. A whole expanse of nothing.

He looks down at the ground, frowning uncomfortably when he realizes there's also nothing there. It's... it's disconcerting. And there's no way in hell he's leaving Cas in such a freaky ass place.

"Cas?" he calls. His voice doesn't echo, although it feels like it should. "Cas!"

Nothing. No answer. Already he can feel the tug back to the bunker, and he fights it, taking another few steps into nothingness. "Cas!" he shouts. He screams until his voice is sore, and then he sinks to his knees, unable to scream anymore.

"Cas," he whispers hoarsely, tears slipping from his eyes and streaking paths across his face. He closes his eyes and he prays. He prays to Cas, and he tells him everything that he couldn't say in his last prayer, everything he should have told him years ago. He tells him he's sorry. He tells him he shouldn't have pushed him away because he was afraid.

He tells him he loves him.

Cas doesn't respond, doesn't hear him, and Dean pulls himself to his feet, not sure why he bothers. "I love you," he whispers.

"Dean?"

Dean's head snaps up, and he spins around, coming face to face with Cas, who stands there in his stupid trench coat with his stupid backwards tie and that _stupid_ confused look on his face, and _god_ Dean loves him so much he thinks his heart breaks all over again just seeing him standing there. 

"Dean?" Cas says again. "This isn't a memory. What... what are you doing here?"

He has to laugh at that, the sound breaking down into a tearful sob. He steps forward, closer, until he can reach out and touch Cas's face, finally really touch him, and he does. Cas's eyes flutter slightly as Dean leans in.

"Isn't it obvious?" he whispers, smiling through the tears. "I'm here to grip you tight and raise you from perdition."

And he kisses Cas. It's desperate and clumsy because Dean can't bother with technique because it's _Cas_ he's kissing, Cas who is kissing him back with equal need, Cas who is... who is so undeniably perfect Dean couldn't care less that he's a man or that he's billions of years old. It's Cas, and Cas _loves him._

Dean breaks away, flushed and slightly out of breath, and the look on Cas's face immediately makes him want to kiss him again. "Dean..." says Cas, and oh god this is going to be a problem because now that he knows that _Cas loves him_ everything he does makes Dean's heart swell with love.

"You dumbass," growls Dean. Cas blinks. "Never do that again. What the hell do you mean, the 'one think you want but can't have?' You've _always_ had me, you idiot."

Cas smiles slowly, happiness clear in his eyes, a stark contrast against the bleak Empty. Dean shakes his head again. He tries to make up for the earlier embarrassing show of affection by glaring at Cas, but he can't. How can he? "You dumbass," he says again, for lack of a better phrase. _I love you._

This time Cas's smile is wider. "I prefer the term 'in love.' Less dumb, less ass."

"Oh my god," says Dean, laughing weakly. "Oh my _god._ I love you." Okay, he said it. He said it and he's not going to panic over it because he _does_ love Cas and he knows it and he shouldn't be embarrassed although he really is because now Cas is looking at him with that stupid loving face and it's going to kill him all over again.

Dean feels a sudden pull on him, like something is yanking him away from Cas, and fear spears him as he realizes it's the Empty. "Damm it," he curses. "I'm sorry, Cas, this is going to hurt." He pulls out his blade and the vial and slashes a thin cut across Cas's throat, wincing at the pain in the angel's face. He eases the grace into the vial until nothing's left, caps it, and tucks it into his shirt.

He barely manages to catch Cas as he topples forward, cradling him in his arms. The angel clings to him too, eyes unfocused and body unmoving. "We're going to be fine," Dean whispers, and then the pull of the Empty is too strong and everything is suddenly blindingly bright.

-

"Dean? Dean!" says a familiar voice. Dean squints against the painfully white light and looks up, where Sam's blurry silhouette is slowly coming into focus. "Oh, thank god, you're alright."

"I'm fine," Dean says. Cas stirs in his arms. "Cas?"

The angel groans, sitting up. Dean suddenly realizes that Cas is basically sitting in his lap and goes red, scooting back across the floor until they're only touching, not on top of each other. Sam smirks. 

"Hello, Dean," says Cas in his beautiful gravelly voice. Dean breaks out into relieved grinning, then thinks _oh, fuck it,_ and throws himself at Cas to kiss him again. It's every bit as good as the first time, if not better, and Dean thinks he could do this forever, except Sam is coughing and clearing his throat.

He grudgingly separates himself from his angel, who is basically beaming at him, at least in Cas's way of beaming. He's not sure he's ever seen Cas really fully smile, but this comes close. "Geez, Sammy," he grumbles, scratching the back of his neck to act unbothered. "Let a man have his moment."

"You're _blushing!"_ Sam says with delight. He full-out giggles, making Dean go even redder. 

"Shut up," he grumbles, standing up. He offers Cas a hand and pulls him to his feet.

Sam immediately starts forward and pulls Cas into a hug, a full Winchester one with the bro-back-patting and everything. "We're glad you're back," he says, smiling over Cas's shoulder. 

"I'm glad to be back," says Cas, waiting for Sam to end the hug before he pulls away. Thus, it goes on for a ridiculously long time, until Dean is shifting from foot to foot because Sam and Cas are clearly big huggers and he's getting impatient.

Sam lets go. (finally). Jack steps up, smiling cautiously at Cas. "I'm sorry," he says quietly.

"For what?" asks Cas. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"For letting you make the deal for me," Jack mumbles. He starts to say something else, but Cas cuts him off by wrapping his arms around him and hugging him tightly. Jack melts into the hug.

"It's not your fault," says Cas, the words so clearly genuine that the worry disappears from Jack's face. Another uncomfortably long hug ensues. Dean is beginning to feel both a bit left out and also awkward. He's not used to this much affection all being shown at once. But for Cas... well, he'll suffer through it a thousand times for Cas.

"How're you feeling, Cas?" Dean asks, eyeing his angel once he breaks away from Jack. 

Cas squints slightly, rubbing his neck, where the cut is only mostly healed. "...Human."

"Sorry about that," says Sam, who is staring at Cas with an air of enrapture. His friend is back. They _did it._ "It was the only way to get you out. You'll be just as human as us, unfortunately."

Cas looks at Sam. He looks at Jack. And he looks at Dean, standing there grinning foolishly at the angel, _his_ angel, and Cas smiles. "I think I might be okay with that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, so, uh, that's it. hope you liked it and didn't think it was too cheesy but you know what? even if it was, overly cheesy but still with cas in it is better than a stupid bronly ending with no cas. i said what i said.  
> if you guys want anything else to happen, i'm more than happy to write an epilogue and add more. this is my first ever fanfic and honestly it was hella fun. so thanks supernatural for both the emotional trauma and for breaking through my writer's block. :)


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